The role of producer varies tremendously from one film to another. Sometimes producers merely furnish the financial backing; other times they shepherd a film through the entire creative process. Probably never has a producer played a larger role in a film's creation that Alex Korda provided for Thief of Bagdad (1940). As many as three writers and six directors contributed to making the film and Korda had to hold it all together.

Historical Background: Alexander Korda (1893-1956) was the eldest of three brothers who made careers in the film industry. Alexander was born Sándor Laszlo Kellner on September 16th, 1893 in a small town near Turkeve, Hungary. He was a precocious child and entered secondary school when he was only nine. When the father of the family died, Alex moved in with cousins in Budapest. After living in Paris for a short while, Korda returned to Hungary in 1912 and entered the film industry as a publicist. By 1914, he was directing films. He launched his own production company in 1917 and acquired some influence with the interim postwar communist government. When the rightist Horthy government gained power, Korda was forced to flee to Vienna. There he made films for Sacha studios. Later, he moved to Berlin and then to Hollywood, where he had moderate success with such films as Lilies of the Field (1930). He returned to Europe, residing first in France, where he had success directing Marius (1931), based on a play by Marcel Pagnol.

Korda then settled in the U.K. where he soon became one of the major players in the development of British cinema. He founded and operated London Films. His film The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) was the first commercially successful British film of the sound era. Korda had additional successes as a director with The Scarlet Pimpernel (1935) and Rembrandt (1936), but then began transitioning into production. He turned to brother Zoltán (1895-1961) for much of the directorial work after 1936 and also employed brother Vincent (1896-1979), as an art director. More than nepotism, the relationship between the brothers was sound business sense, since all three were highly talented, each in his way. Working together, the brothers created a string of fine films in the late thirties, including Sanders of the River (1935), Forever Yours (1936), Elephant Boy (1937), Drums (1938), and the magnificent The Four Feathers (1939). Even so, their work was being over-shadowed by Hollywood, especially after Hollywood's vintage year in 1939, that saw the release of such marvels as The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and Goodbye Mr. Chips. So, in 1940, Korda badly wanted to produce a big international hit.

Korda had already signed a contract with German director Ludwig Berger to do a color version of The Thief of Bagdad, which had been successfully filmed during the silent film era, directed by Raoul Walsh and starring Douglas Fairbanks as Ahmad. Korda began to realize that this story could be his blockbuster, but not if Berger was left to make it on his own. Berger's vision for the film was entirely studio bound. With Berger's concurrence, Korda enlisted Michael Powell (later director of The Red Shoes) to shoot one of the scenes featuring special effects, on the shores of Wales. After that, the genie was out of the bottle, so to speak. Tim Whelan was added as a third credited director and, later, William Cameron Menzies, Zoltán Korda, and Alexander Korda all chipped in as well. Then, when World War II broke out, the remainder of the production had to be moved to America. It's amazing that the film is as unified as it is with all of the divergence of control and disruptions in filming.

The Story: As the story begins, a ship with large red sails come into port near Bagdad, carrying the Grand Vizier Jaffar (Conrad Veidt), an evil magician and usurper of the throne of the city. He has come to claim, if possible, the Princess of Basra (June Duprez), who has lapsed into a spell from lamenting her lost love and is under the care of Halima (Mary Morris), an ally of Jaffar. As they travel through the teeming marketplace, Halima spies a blind man, Ahmad (John Justin), who is begging for alms with his dog at his side. The beggar is invited to join them so that he can regale the harem with stories.

It is his own story that Ahmad tells. Once he had been the proud Prince of Bagdad, aloof and isolated from his people. He had longed to learn what they really thought about their king. On the advice of his Grand Vizier Jaffar, he had disguised himself as a commoner to visit the marketplace and eavesdrop. There, he had listening to a storyteller prophesizing the arrival of a savior for the people. Meanwhile, Jaffar has ordered the palace guard to arrest Ahmad, declaring him an insane man claiming to be the Prince. Elsewhere, in the city, a young thief, Abu (Sabu), leads merchants on a merry chase after he steals food for a couple of beggars. Ahmad and Abu end up in the same cell, both scheduled to be executed at dawn, but the resourceful Abu has swiped the keys from the jailer. As soon as the guards are asleep, the two prisoners make their escape.

The pair makes their way to Basra where Ahmad catches a glimpse of the beautiful Princess of Basra (June Duprez), despite the bevy of archers who drive everybody to cover as she passes through. A glimpse is all that is required for the lad to be irrevocably smitten. Now, Ahmad burns with desire to meet his beloved, face to face. In the Princess's garden, Ahmad finds a convenient tree, overlooking a pool. The Princess sees his reflection in the water and imagines it to be a genie. When he finally descends out of the tree, she immediately realizes that he is her true love. After expressing eternal devotion to one another, the lovers part with a promise to meet again the next day.

Jaffar comes to Basra to pay call on the Sultan of Basra (Miles Malleson), father of the Princess. The Sultan is obsessed with all kind of mechanical toys and Jaffar has brought him a windup hobbyhorse that magically flies through the air. Jaffar wants the Princess for himself and he offers the magical horse in trade. The Princess, overhearing her father accepting Jaffar's offer, disguises herself and runs away. Ahmad arrives, with Abu at his side, to confront Jaffar. Jaffar uses his magic, however, to strike Ahmad blind and to turn Abu into a dog. This is where Ahmad's story to the harem ends.

Ahmad is advised that his beloved Princess is in that very house, but is under a deep spell. He is invited to try to bring her out of it. At her bedside, just a few words from Ahmad are enough to dispel her pining. She awakens, however, to discover that Ahmad is now blind. Later, Halima tricks the Princess into believing that there is a doctor who could cure Ahmad, thus getting her to board Jaffar's ship. Jaffar informs her that only he can relieve the spell, but that she will have to agree to be his. The Princess is obliged to agree in order to restore Ahmad's eyesight. Abu is returned to human form at the same moment.

Ahmad and Abu immediately set sail in pursuit of Jaffar's ship, but Jaffar provokes a terrible storm that overwhelms their small craft. Some time later, after washing up on a desolate beach, Abu sees no sign of Ahmad anywhere but spies a bottle at the edge of the sea. Uncorking it, Abu encounters a magnificent but rather hostile genie (Rex Ingram).

The remainder of the story recounts mainly Abu's adventures as he sets out to find his friend, Ahmad, and help him rescue the Princess. Along the way, he must deal with a somewhat erratic but useful genie; a temple wherein lies the All-Seeing Eye, guarded by warriors and a giant spider; and an ethereal world occupied by ancient kings and a magic carpet. This being a fairytale, the outcome is never really in doubt, but I leave the particulars for your viewing pleasure.

Themes: When mixing it up with an evil magician, it is best to have a genie and a magic carpet on your side.

Production Values: The screenplay for this film was a fresh rewrite, by Lajos Biro and Miles Malleson, of parts of the Arabian Tales, supposedly first recounted by Schéhérazade to a sultan, over the course of a thousand nights. It is the stuff of fantasies and dreams, complete with princes and princesses and just a smidgen of pure-hearted romance. It is a story to capture the minds of children and all those adults who have held onto a part of their childhood imaginations. There never was a full script, however, and the actors had to improvise some of the dialog. Some of the dialog is just not very good. Add to that the ever changing directorial assignments and the result is a story in which the continuity is often very jagged. Except for Abu, the characters are given precious little in the way of personalities or motivations.

One of the aspects of filmmaking that has most progressed over the decades is special effects. For critics, it is difficult to decide how to judge a film's special effects: whether in the context of its own era or by modern standards. When a film is intended largely or in part for children, the issue is especially difficult because children have no sense of historical context. A film has to interest or please a child from the only vantage point that it knows – current standards. The special effects in this film were truly exceptional for their time but are noticeably deficient, in some scenes, by current standards. The scene in which Abu battles a giant spider while climbing its web could be held up against some of the best current special effects, but the flying horse and all of the juxtapositions of large against small (e.g., the genie and abu) have an awkward, dimensionless look. The wires holding the magic carpet aloft are clearly visible. The swordplay near the end between Ahmad and a squad of Jaffar's guards and assassins is quite pitiful. Reviewers that claim the special effects of this film "are superior to much work being done today" are clearly looking at this film through the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia.

On the other hand, the sets are mostly superb, from the crowded city bizarre, to the jail cell, the temple with the spider and All-Seeing Eye, the palace garden, and the top-of-the-world scene shot in the Rockies. I've seen better palaces, but otherwise the sets are outstanding. The Technicolor photography is very attractive, though the edges of the film exhibit frequent bluish distortions. Not since some of the German expressionistic films of the twenties and early thirties, such as Metropolis, had such visual wonders been seen. The great cinematographer George Perinal won an Oscar for his work on this film. Vincent Korda received an Oscar for his sets. The film also took the Oscar for best special effects.

The musical score by Miklos Rozsa for this film could be reasonably counted among the best in cinematic history. It was nominated for best original score, though it did not win. The lyrics for the songs are another story altogether.

This film's most outstanding performance belongs to Sabu, as the young thief. Sabu was born Sabu Dastagir on January 27th, 1924 in Karapur, Mysore, India. He was a stable boy for an Indian maharajah before Robert Flaherty discovered him and gave him the title role in The Elephant Boy (1937). He proved so adept at acting that he was chosen to play exotic boys in a number of films made in the U.K. or in Hollywood, such as Drums (1938), The Thief of Bagdad (1940), The Jungle Book (1942), and Black Narcissus (1946). Often he co-starred with Jon Hall and Maria Montez. Sabu died from a heart attack at age 39.

Conrad Veidt, with his terribly piercing stare, plays the turban-headed Grand Vizier. Veidt, a German film star before World War II, gives a very strong performance as one of cinema's most memorable villains. Veidt was born in Potsdam, Germany in 1893 and studied with Max Reinhardt. He rose to prominence during the expressionist period in German cinema, in such films as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. In the thirties, he worked in films made in Hollywood, the U.K., and in Germany. Veidt was in the United States filming The Thief of Bagdad when World War II broke out and wisely chose to remain. During the next few years, he played some of the prominent German characters in Hollywood films, including Mar. Heinrich Strasser in Casablanca (1942). Veidt died in 1943 from a heart attack.

June Duprez and John Justin provide the romantic interest in The Thief of Bagdad. Duprez's part is not very demanding but she provides all of the beauty that the part required. She had already performed admirably in The Four Feathers and went on to roles in None but the Lonely Heart (1944) and And Then There Were None (1945), but virtually disappeared from cinema after 1947, appearing in just one more film thereafter. She was the daughter of American character actor Fred Duprez (1884-1938). John Justin is the weak link of the cast. He has none of the athleticism of Douglas Fairbanks, looks ridiculous during the sword fights, and is too obviously British for the role. It is his lines that most often come across as campy. Justin's best subsequent roles were in The Sound Barrier (1952) and King of the Khyber Rifles (1953).

Miles Malleson is delightful as the toy-obsessed Sultan of Basra, with a magnificent handlebar mustache. Malleson also co-scripted the film. Malleson went on to roles in such films as Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), The Importance of Being Earnest (1952), and The Phantom of the Opera (1962). Rex Ingram is very effective as the genie. He later appeared in The Talk of the Town (1942), Sahara (1943), and Cabin in the Sky (1943).

Bottom-Line: There have been several cinematic renditions of The Thief of Bagdad, but this one is widely considered the best. It's main competitor for that distinction is the 1924 silent film version with Douglas Fairbanks. A 1961 version with Steve Reeves and a 1979 television version with Kabir Bedi are shabby in comparison. The 1992 Disney animated film Aladdin also covers some of the same territory.

The Thief of Bagdad was a very expensive film to make, in its day, but was also enormously successful at the box-office, making Alexander Korda a wealthy man. It could have been a good deal better film had it not been a broth beset by too many cooks. Even so, it was a hugely successful blockbuster. It's foremost attraction was its special effects, but with the advances that have been made since in that department, many of the effects now look terribly dated. I'm giving this film four stars for modern audiences. Rated solely in terms of its own era, it would warrant five.

Recommended:
Yes

Video Occasion: Good for Groups
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children up Ages 8